Enough to Miss Christmas

Once Timmy was in bed, I corralled Paul in his den. Behind the closed door, I told him about the phone call from Thatcher Wright. Thatcher was correct; my modest husband was dismissive of the award; he'd only mentioned the trip to me as a quickie overnight to the city. I explained Thatcher's suggestion I might want to attend in view of the importance of the presentation. I kept my fingers crossed, but he reacted with surprise I wouldn't be bored to death with the affair. When I told him I really wanted to go, he readily agreed. I was ecstatic!

The short notice required a scheduled change of toy store hours and finding someone to stay with the children. I called my sister in Connecticut from the den but was disappointed to learn she'd be tied up choosing classes for collage starting in the fall.

"It's drop-dead important, little sister. I won't get any classes I want if I'm not there at sign up." She suggested her daughter Maureen.

"What about the twins, and the baby?" I said. "That's too much of an imposition. Little Claire is still nursing."

"We're all family," Suzie answered. "Besides, Karen and Timmy will love it. I'll call her."

After an exchange of several phone calls, Maureen happily agreed. Paul and I both spoke with Thatcher as well. He would arrange everything in New York. While I'd normally want a say in planning my adventures, I gleefully let Thatcher set up my second honeymoon. We would leave immediately after my Wednesday appointment, only a day and a half from now. The house was dark by the time we left the den and went to bed, to celebrate.

We said nothing to the children before school as the morning was hectic as usual. We'd break the news over dinner. I ran around like mad the all day, splurging on clothes and new shoes, washing and ironing, setting up the spare bedroom for Maureen and her clan, arranging for a baby crib I'd pick up in the morning and shopping for groceries. I dragged my suitcase from the attic, plopped it on the bed and began filling it with my frilliest under things and newly purchased night ware.

I owed poor Mrs. Peck time in the store so when I arrived home it was too late to fix dinner. Karen, bless her heart, had done so. When I gave her a hug, I was dismayed to see she'd been crying.

"What's wrong, Hon?" I asked but she pulled away and left the room just as Paul came in the front door.

"Have you told them yet?" he asked.